


Dancing

by PepperedPickles



Series: Through Time [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperedPickles/pseuds/PepperedPickles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky know that it's not safe for them to go out dancing together. That doesn't stop them from wanting to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> alright, second part in this series. For once, I did ZERO research for this, so all historical "facts" are pulled out of my ass. Enjoy!  
> also, can I just add that I'm finding it very hard to write Bucky properly. With TV shows and long series of movies, it's easier to write in a character's voice, but Bucky's got maybe a hundred words of dialogue in both movies and I can't for the life of me characterise him properly. Could a comic buff suggest some Bucky-heavy comics I could read to figure him out? Thanks

"We should go out dancing tonight." Bucky suggested, uncrossing his legs and leaning forwards towards Steve.

"You know any girls you  _haven't_ pretended to date yet?" Steve replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No. Together."

"Are you  _crazy,_ Bucky? We're gonna get ourselves killed!"

"Last time I checked, you practically go looking for fights, asthma and all. Anyway, I'm not talking about in one of those  _normal_  clubs. No, listen, there's a whole bunch of places we can go and be safe. You just gotta know how to get in."

" _How_ do you get in? Who told you this?"

"A friend. Doesn't matter, anyway. It's Friday, we've just paid our rent, we've both held down jobs for nearly half a year now... we can afford to go out and have a nice time for once."

"Fine. Lemme get cleaned up. I'm just curious to see where you're gonna bring us."

Steve changed into a marginally better set of clothes (ones that weren't so baggy that he could use them as a parachute in a pinch) and slicked his hair back, as well as cleaning the dirt from his nose. 

"Come on, let's go."

"Not gonna let me get cleaned up?"

"I like you better messy." 

Bucky didn't even try to hold back his grin as he grabbed his threadbare jacket from the back of his chair. 

"Coming!"

***

They walked at a leisurely pace along the side-streets of Brooklyn, taking care to walk a certain distance apart from one another. It was always more difficult, in public. They spent so much time at home, living in one another's space, breathing the same air. Whenever they stepped outside their own door, they had to be alert.  _  
_

Before too long, they arrived at a place called "Smith's". It was crowded with both men and dames, just an ordinary dance club. An unfamiliar tune was playing on the loudspeakers, nothing Steve recognised. Bucky sidled up to the bar.

"Is there, uh, a side room we could go to?" he asked, hesitant despite the bravado evident in his posture. "Micheal Bailey sent me," he added, under his breath.

The bartender, a portly man, nodded and shows them to an inconspicuous door in the side of the room, opening it in front of them. The two stepped through and found a more dimly-lit room, with the same tune playing on the loudspeakers. The only difference was that the entire place was that rather than men and women dancing together it was men and men, women and women, as well as several who Steve suspected were men dressed as women, although they were far more glamorous than any other dame there, which easily set them apart.

The next song came on mere seconds after they got in. It was a bright, swing melody.

"Come on, Steve. Let's dance. It's all we've been waiting for, isn't it?"

When he was asked about it, years later, Bucky would always deny that he cried at that moment. Steve would never say a goddamn thing, although he  _saw_.

The first tune was fast enough, and they danced spinning back and forth. They never stayed long close together. Still, the feeling of being able to touch hands,  _dance_ together, that was more than enough. The song was over fairly quickly.  More people started talking, filling the silence.

"I've wanted this for so long. Just as long as I've wanted you," Steve murmurs.

"Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel special," Bucky quipped. The next song came on, this one still quicker. He suggests that Steve had better take it easy, but when he looks and sees the smaller man's flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes, he keeps going, feet in, feet out, arms spinning till he can barely keep track, but nothing seems to matter anymore, nothing but the two of them, starting to sweat in their own little bubble. 

***

They left the club hours later, when Steve admitted to being so tired he could simply fall down. So they exited the room as discreetly as they could, then got out of Smith's and made their way home. They had both had enough to drink to be just not quite drunk but more than tipsy. Soon, Steve heard someone following them. 

"There's people following us," he hissed in Bucky's ear. He knew that he was probably just being paranoid. Still, it couldn't hurt to be careful. Bucky just nodded and sped up his pace a little. 

It happened right before they got to their own block. Three sets of footsteps behind them started speeding up. Then, before either of them could react, they had both been pushed up against a wall. Their faces were pushed right against the stained brick.

"We see you, you fucking queers. Actin' normal, talking to girls. We know what goes on at Smith's."

Then Steve was brutally pushed to the ground and one of them got Bucky's arms pinned behind his back and was  _twisting_ and turning him forward so he had to watch.

The blond struggled to his feet, only to be punched in the face and knocked right back down to the ground. When he looked up at Bucky, desperate, the taller man saw that his lip was already split and his nose wasn't looking too good either.

" _That_ 's what you get for being a fucking unnatural queen," the tallest of the group hissed as he kicks Steve's side. He curled up into a ball, trying to protect his face and vital organs, but Bucky still thought he heard a  _crack_. He wanted to turn his head away, but then Steve's eye met his, pleading. He couldn't bring himself to even avert his eyes after that. 

Every single meaty thump was accompanied by a little grunt as the blond man tried to bear the beating as best he could. It seemed to last an eternity. When they realised that Steve wasn't ever going to put up a fight properly, they pulled him to his feet and pulled Bucky to the ground. By some miracle, however, he managed to twist his arm away and sock his attacker right in the jaw. It got down to proper fighting then, one against two. The remaining one seemed to be holding Steve down. He was still capable of taunting though. 

"Yeah, go fight for your dame. Ugly old broad, isn't he?" came the sneering voice as Bucky kneed one man in the balls before punching him in the nose as hard as he could. This was the dirtiest kind of fighting, where they were trying to hurt each other rather than just beat one another. With one man down for the time being, Bucky _flew_ at the other, first punching him in the gut, then yanking his head back by the hair and bashing it against the wall. He wasn't proud of it, not one bit. He did what he had to to get out. The other one, the big one had managed to get up, even though he was doubled over. He ignored this, instead kicking the one who held Steve in the face and grabbing the smallest man by the wrist. The two made a run for it, not waiting for the others to catch up. They could only hope they didn't know where they lived.

***

"This is gonna sting," Bucky said as he picked the gravel from the scrapes on Steve's knees. "I'm sorry that tonight ended like that,"

"You don't have to be. I wouldn't have traded it for anything. So what if I got my ass beat up? It happens to me every day anyway."

Bucky sat back with a worried frown on his face.

"You're a punk."

"Jerk."

They embrace over a shallow, chipped bowl of iodine, promising to love each other forever with whispers muffled by skin in the dark Brooklyn night.


End file.
